Never Ending Melody
by Admiral T. DeVanto
Summary: "Mother," he whispered, tears trailing down his face as he ran towards her. A chance at reconnection, a chance to understand, a chance for what was left unsaid to be said. A scout and a captain will not waste these chances.
1. Chapter 1

Even though he barely remembered who she was, he would recognize her touch and the sound of her voice.

He remembered her kindness, and how her death had left him in tears as a child with such an emptiness in his heart.

He remembered the fact that she had sheltered him the best she could, and he remembered how she had loved him with all her being.

He hated how much she was hurt in this life, and he hated that he did not get to know her better.

He hated that her life had been cut off so shortly from this world, robbing him of the chance to know this woman who had loved and raised him.

Yet here he was, standing before her as she slept. She was breathing, and she was alive.

She was alive, yet not in the way one would normally think.

He was like a ghost in the halls of this dirtied building, doomed to go to sleep and wake up in a different time, almost in a different world where he went uninterrupted in his observations.

Maybe she was the one who was alive, and he had been reduced to nothing but a ghost, dead to the world and doomed to watch and keep her company.

It was not that he did not want to keep her company and witness her living. He just did not want to witness her death all over again, but this time, as a fully grown man who understood what was happening.

He was hesitant to reach out to her, not wanting to reopen a wound that he had thought had healed so long ago.

"Why?" he had demanded as she slept, his voice shaking. "Why am I tormented?" He looked upwards in frustration, not knowing what to do. His hands shook and he curled them into fists.

He relaxed, letting out a bitter sigh. He opened his eyes and stared at her before turning his back to her once more.

Tomorrow. He would attempt to reach out to her tomorrow.

If he had the same dream.

* * *

Tomorrow came, and had the same dream, but he did not reach out to her yet. He was doomed to remain a ghost every time he slept. He would remain in the same room with her, not wanting to take that next step and wake her.

Besides, she looked so weary when she slept. She was beautiful, but she was also worn down, doomed to remain in this underground prison forever, never to see the warm sun or the glowing moon.

His eyes narrowed at that thought, and he was moving forward, arm outstretched to gently shake her awake.

He was surprised that his hand connected with her shoulder, and her eyes flashed open at his touch. She stared up at him with no expression, his own face void of emotion. "Follow me," he whispered.

She had followed him without question, much like a ghost herself. They left the buildings like phantoms on the streets. They passed by the patrols, and it was only then did she hesitate.

He had looked back with understanding, reaching out and taking her hand in his. She looked up at him with a faint smile, which he returned. Gently, he tugged on her hand and led the way.

The walk may have taken hours, or mere seconds. They may have been walking for years for all he knew. Time ceased to exist for the both of them.

When he had successfully arrived at their destination, he looked in her direction as she beheld the surface for the first time. Her face was one of awe as she took in the open, starry skies and the full, glowing moon.

"It's so big," she murmured.

He nodded, looking back upwards at the sky. "Aye," he said. "It is. Moreso then you could ever know."

"You are a soldier here," she had said with understanding, staring at his uniform where the Survey Corps crest was.

He swallowed, eyes still fixed on the starry skies. "Yes."

"Why do you visit me?" she said softly, and he could feel her gaze on him.

He looked at her with a brief flicker of surprise on his face.

She smiled softly. "I know when someone is in my room, watching me. Yet you bore no malice, no ill intent towards me. Not the type of men I am used to." She approached him, her white nightgown almost glowing. She tilted her head. "Very well, I will start with an easier question; what is your name?"

He mirrored her expression. "My name," he said thoughtfully. "Is not important."

"It is to me," she said, staring at him. "It is to me," she repeated. "Because I choose it." She reached out to him, waiting for him to take her hand once more. "Why do you hesitate? Are you afraid?"

He frowned, quickly striding towards her and embracing her frail, thin body. "Never," he said as he hugged her.

"You've grown," she said softly as she held him. "You're almost as tall as me."

He smirked, amusement in his eyes as she pulled back and observed his face, taking in every little detail of this child who was now a man.

She reached up to touch his face gently, her cold hands suddenly tingling with warmth in that moment. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly as he let her caress his face.

"I know you," she murmured, her voice sounding so distant.

He reached up to grab her hand that was touching him, feeling her slip away from him as unknown forces slowly took this moment away from him. "I know," he said, opening his eyes. "Why are we here? Why now?"

She smiled. "Does it matter? We are here right now in this moment." She tilted her head. "But why are you here?"

He looked at her, so many answers and questions in his eyes. "Because I want to know you," he said softly.

She smiled once more. In that moment, she seemed to change. No longer was she the frail, young woman before him. Instead there was strong, mature lady who was gently running her hands through his hair, pride in her eyes.

"Oh Levi," she said softly. "My son. You do know me."

He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around her.

"My soldier," she murmured. "I am so proud of you."


	2. Chapter 2

He had not dared to believe what he was seeing. He only saw the dark hair, the warm eyes and the familiar smile that always comforted him in his dreams. In reflecting back on this moment in the near future, he would remember running toward her, tears streaming down his face as he completed the distance. Normally, if this was a dream, he would awaken before he reached her warm embrace.

But this time, he reached her and was able to hold and touch her. He could feel her as she wrapped her arms around him. He inhaled her scent, the scent that was all too familiar to him. He could not name the scent, but he could always tell that it belonged to her.

"Mother," he whispered as tears trailed down his cheeks.

"Eren," Carla sighed as she ran her fingers through his hair. She looked at him, taking in the changes in both his appearance and in his mannerisms.

Some were still the same, yet some were different.

"Don't let go," he whispered as he clung to her. "Please don't."

"I won't," she promised. "I'm here."

"I'm...I'm sorry," he said softly, still clinging to her, for fear that this dream would end and he would lose her forever. "I'm really sorry for...for not being strong enough to save you."

"I'm here now," she said, forcing him to look up at her. "I am here now, and that is all that matters."

But he wanted to say so much more. He wanted to tell her about what has happened, he wanted to properly apologize for how they had parted in their last moments. He had yelled at her, they had gotten into a fight. And consequently, those were the final moments he would ever have with her.

She frowned as she took in his uniform. He watched as she observed his jacket and the Survey Corps badge on his sleeve. His smile briefly fell as he stared at her, waiting for her ridicule.

She put her hands on her hips, regarding him with thoughtful eyes. "So," she began. "You became a Scout after all."

He swallowed, wanting to avert his eyes, yet he forced himself to look his mother in the eyes. "Yes," he said firmly. "Yes, I became a Scout. I fight for humanity alongside my comrades to eradicate the world of the Titans."

She continued to stare at him as he stood tall and proud before her. Carla sighed before pulling him in for another embrace, holding him tight.

He did not see the tears trail down her cheeks as she held him.

"My son," she murmured softly. "Please stay safe."

He nodded, burying his face in her shoulders. It was then he noticed how tall he actually was. In the past years, he had certainly grown, and she had not been there to see it. "I will mom," he promised.

She sniffed, tightening her hold. "I am so proud of you, my son."

* * *

"You are a Titan-shifter?" she asked incredulously. She stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, a fifteen meter one!"

She blinked, surprised. "Oh...my." She seemed at a loss for words and looked down with concern.

"It has brought great strides in our discoveries," Eren continued as he paced back in forth in front of his mother. "And I am able to kill more Titans in my Titan form then ever before!"

She hummed thoughtfully before turning back to her work.

"Eren," she said suddenly. "I think I need some more flour for the bread. Can you get me some?"

Eren blinked as he suddenly noticed the small house he was in. He looked around with a frown. Carla huffed as she proceeded to knead the dough, her hands covered in flour.

"Why are you making bread?" Eren asked as he passed her the flour.

She sprinkled the necessary amount of flour onto the wooden board before placing the dough on it. A small cloud of flour arose in the air. "Should I not be?"

He shrugged. "I just...didn't think you would be making bread."

"I always prepare food," she said with a teasing smile. "Who do you think feeds you? Your father?"

He huffed, rolling his eyes while grinning. "Mom. That's not what I meant!"

"Oh," she said, placing a hand on her chin while frowning. Yet her eyes twinkled. "You mean," and she pinched his cheek, wet dough and flour getting stuck on his face. "That despite the fact that you are a big bad Titan shifter and a soldier in one of the most dangerous of missions that I won't make something as trivial for you as bread?"

He huffed, wiping the wet substance off of his face. "You know what I meant," he grumbled, yet he was reluctant to broach the subject that was most on his mind, and he regretted speaking up at all.

"You mean, because I am dead I should not be making bread?" she asked, causing his heart to sink at the very topic he did not want to broach about. What truly hurt him was how casually she said it, as if she was speaking about the weather and not her death that was so traumatizing for him.

It had to be worse for her, he reminded himself, as she had been the one to perish at the hands of the Titans.

"Even ghosts need a hobby to keep them busy," she continued.

He frowned, a pit of uneasiness growing in his stomach. The reality of her death always haunted him. Yet these dreams gave him a sense of peace. But was this even a dream? What was this anyway? Why did he receive these dreams or visions? Or...a truly disturbing thought was...was he dead?

He looked around once more, noticing the familiar house. "Mother?" he choked out. "Where are we?"

"You are home, Eren," she answered.

* * *

" _Eren!" Mikasa screamed as she flew past him. His Titan form let out a roar as he ran past her, grabbing onto the nearest Titan and stranglign it. His pleasure always grew whenever he fought, whenever another Titan perished at his hands._

 _It meant one last mindless beast to roam this world. One more chance to wreck his vengeance on these creatures that had taken everything he held dear away from him._

 _The shouts of his comrades filled his hearing as they all charged forward. Titans and humans alike fell in battle. Yet to the Titans, this was not a battle; it was a feeding frenzy._

 _His knees buckled under the strain. It had been a long, tiring day in trying to outrun the Titans. But there had been no outrunning them. Soon, the inevitable came, and he had been forced to transform and fight as a Titan. He had already been tired from the previous fights, but he had to give his comrades a fighting chance in reaching the safety of walls._

 _As his knees hit the ground, he felt someone slice at his nape. Soon, he lost consciousness as someone pulled him out of his Titan and carry him off._

" _Eren!" another voice shouted._

 _He looked up through his blurry vision. Even as he was being carried away, he saw someone running towards him with concern. The death and carnage around him faded as he focused on that one woman, how her dark hair tugged at the breeze as she ran towards him. Her white skirts clung at her ankles, and there was pure concern in her eyes as she reached out for him. Soon, she was not running, but hovering before him._

" _Mom?" he choked out as darkness took him._

* * *

"It's strange," he said as he rested his head on the soft grass. "Am I dead?" In an odd way, he did not feel panicked by it. It did not matter now.

Carla chuckled as she wiped her hands on her apron, coming to sit with him in the grassy meadow. She leaned up against the tree that shaded them both from the sun.

"I should hope not," she said softly. "You are not supposed to be."

He twirled a blade of grass he had plucked from the ground in his hand, the distinct sound of running water reaching his ears. "Water," he muttered to himself, propping himself on his elbow to see a running stream. "Armin would like this place." His gaze flickered over to a loan daisy that stood out in the field of green. "And Mikasa too," he said.

Carla ran her hand through his hair, and he closed his eyes in content. This was what he missed, this was what he wanted back.

And he finally got it back.

"Maybe you can tell them about this when you go back," she said softly.

"Or when they get here," Eren said.

"You will not be staying here," Carla said firmly. "And they will not be visiting anytime soon either."

He sat up quickly, turning to look at her. "Why?" he choked out. "Mom, why? Why can I not stay?"

"Because you are not like me, Eren," she said. "You are living. Even now, your body is recovering." She reached up to touch his face, a smile gracing her lips. "My baby," she said softly.

"I'm a soldier," he reminded her with a annoyed huff.

She tsked. "It does not matter how old you get or what you become. You are still my baby even when you have babies of your own."

He recoiled back, his face burning. "Mom!"

She laughed as his face turned a brighter shade of red. He buried his face in his arms, mumbling to himself. He peeked to glare at her, to which Carla only had a knowing smile on her face. He was reminded of when he was a child and how much he had changed, or believed he had changed.

Yet she had not changed, she had stayed the same. Such a thought brought him comfort.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Do stop saying that," Carla admonished, staring at him with narrowed eyes.

"I love you," he said finally.

"That's better," she said with a nod. She then looked up with surprise. "Oh! The bread must be ready!"

Eren frowned as he looked around the grassy meadow with no oven in sight. As a matter of fact, there was no house in sight at all. "Bread? But mom, how can you tell-?" He cut off when he could no longer see her in the grassy meadow. "Mom?" he called out, feeling panic set in his heart. He suddenly felt very cold, a new feeling returning to his body.

"I can smell it, I hope I didn't burn it," he heard her say, though he still could not see her.

"Mom!" he called out desperately. "Mom please! Not now! I can't leave you!"

He felt a light touch on his cheek as everything blurred around him, losing shape and focus. Yet he focused on that one, familiar touch.

"Eren, please," he heard her say. "Go home and live. For me, live."

"Mother," he said, tears trailing down his cheeks as he lost her touch. "Mother," he repeated as he blinked his eyes. Faces took form and shape of people he knew, people he loved. He saw Mikasa hovering over him, holding his hand. He could make out her black hair and that red scarf she always wore. Next to her was Armin, his blond hair and big blue eyes easy to identify.

Unless Armin was confused with Krista. Strange that his delirious mind would think that.

"Bread," Eren muttered deliriously as he tossed and turned. "Smells good."

"Eren," he heard Armin say with concern. Why was he concerned?

"Water," Eren mumbled. "There was a stream. You'd like it, Armin." He felt someone touch his cheek with concern, and he knew instantly that it was Mikasa.

"Mother," he mumbled once more before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Eren sat outside, feeling the cold chill upon him. The air was slightly active as a breeze tugged on his Survey Corps cape. He pulled his hood up, chilled but not yet ready to go inside. The night was dark with no moon, yet many stars twinkled above him.

He breathed in the fresh cold, his breath puffing up slightly in a cloud. He swallowed thickly, yet he said and did nothing as his heart was in turmoil.

The faint sounds of footsteps approaching him caught his attention, and he looked up to see Captain Levi approaching him. Like Eren, Levi also wore his cape, yet his hood was down. The shadows illuminated him, yet the candle light also gave him a warm glow that took the eariness away.

"Can't sleep?" Levi asked, his voice surprisingly soft in the silence.

Erne shook his head. "Nah. I've been sleeping for three days anyway."

He could hear Levi lean up against the post of the bench, and both men did not say anything for a while. Eren smiled as he thought about the past three days. The past three days he had spent with his mother. While the memory still ached, and he could barely remember most of his time with her, he still remembered some of it. Did he tell her about Mikasa and Armin? What about the others? What of his father?

He frowned thoughtfully. Maybe it was a good thing he didn't tell her about his first encounter with Levi. He doubted she would take it well. Mikasa surely didn't. But the problem was, Eren could not remember the specifics he had spoken about with his mother. But, maybe she already knew.

He chuckled suddenly, catching Levi's attention. "She's probably watching this right now," Eren mumbled to himself, amused. He looked up at the vastness of the night sky, suddenly overcome with wonder. "It's so big," he stated.

Something akin to pain flashed through Levi's eyes as he was haunted by a memory. He looked up as well, staring at the night that was void of clouds. "Aye, it is." A little softly, he said, "Moreso than you could ever know."

"Oh, I know," Eren said, oblivious to his captain's expression. "My mother would tell me about the different constellations, though we never really tried to look for them as we were...well, kids and weren't interested in that sort of thing."

"My mother never got to see the stars," Levi said quietly.

Erne finally looked at him, noting the change in his captain. "Oh," was all he said. It was all he could say.

"At least," Levi continued. "Not in the way that mattered."

Eren swallowed, uncertain how else to proceed. Levi seemed lost, as if he did not care if Eren or anyone was there to see him in such an open state, or as open as Levi could get.

"It's...a big bright sky," Eren said suddenly, wincing.

Levi finally looked at him, before his lip twitched in faint amusement. "Of course it is you idiot."

Some of the tension left Eren's body as he relaxed. Both he and Levi stayed, not moving as they looked upward at the starry sky, both lost in their own thoughts. Unknowest to the both of them, their thoughts were much the same as they found themselves dwelling on what they had lost, what they had gained, and what they had been able to see once more.


End file.
